sacrifice

*Ragnar* · June 15, 2014, 02:53 PM

@Sköll Because sometimes things just need a thread even if it's between two of my characters.

The morning sun, as it was most days, was obscured by the white wisps of clouds peeking through every now and then when they offered a respite from their shielding as they moved lazily across the vast stretch of baby blue above the world. Ragnar knew Sköll was in these Wilds. It was nothing so complicated as being a matter of a vision granted by the Allfather, nor the passage of message through lips (if only because Ragnar did not associate with the Isle wolves more than was necessary). Rather, simply, it was because he had scented him in Ravensblood. His scent had been faint, tainted justly as faintly by the scent of a woman that was not any that he recognized. Sköll. Son of Floki and Helga. Floki who was counted rarely among one of Ragnar’s truest friends. Joined with the wolves of the Isle. The betrayal was like a vicious slap to the Viking’s face and despite the putrid irritation he felt he had to stop to remind himself that the boy could have easily grown confused. Perhaps, all along, Sköll was searching for him and had gotten mixed up. He was intelligent but Ragnar knew he was unable to speak but a child’s handful of the common tongue words.

Unless Majesty could speak their native tongue it left Ragnar to wonder how, exactly, the boy got in with the Isle wolves to begin with; however, it did not matter. Soon Sköll would be among the ranks of the Ridge, among Ragnar’s ranks where the platinum silver Viking felt the Flokisson belonged. Or so it was how Ragnar believed. With this thought firm in his mind the Beta of the Ridge stalked the Totoka River wondering if he should call for the Tiny Viking or if he should wait on the surefire chance that he would have to come out of the Isle sometime to hunt for himself. Or to gather herbs.